


Hands

by jeonghooniesan



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, College student!changkyun, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I try, Love Confessions, M/M, POV First Person, References to Depression, Teacher's assistant!kihyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonghooniesan/pseuds/jeonghooniesan
Summary: Dear you,Here's a letter on how I fell in love with the stories you hold at the tip of your fingers.Love, the one who notices.





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> My first monsta x fanfic! I just got into monsta x recently, so i hope monbebe's can accept me into their family!!!!
> 
> Still heavy in experimentation but i hope you enjoy this!!!!

I remember that night at the bus stop; you were crying over a book while waiting for the next bus to arrive. You didnt notice me, but I noticed you, and you would brush your hair back so that it wouldn't reach your eyes, and your fingers would trace the edges of a page to flip into another, continual, a cycle, and you looked ethereal. But I knew it was just for that night, and I would never see you again.  
  
But fate keeps on surprising me. You sat at the farthest part of the lecture when the new semester came around. I held the attendance sheet and called out the names of your classmates, and that's when i finally knew your name.  
  
Changkyun.  
  
You called out my name when I called out for yours. "Here, Sir Yoo." You said, enthusiastic compared to your classmates. I started my lecture about the introduction of literature, and you looked like a child watching a balloon that was tied around their wrist. It was endearing seeing you jot down notes, your eyes focused. You had your hair styled up, and your fingers were wrapped around a pen, scribbling what I was narrating. You had your other hand on top of a novel, your fingers sometimes brush through pages, flipping it quickly, something like a habit.  
  
And days through the semester would continue like that.  
  
But I saw you again at the bus stop, crying with no book at hand. You were staring into space, your fingers were weary and weak. You didnt notice me but I noticed you; you were snapped out of your thoughts when a car passes by with the engine wearing loudly. You swipe away the tears at your cheeks quickly with the back of your hand, and when the bus came, you didnt look back.  
  
And you didnt come to class for a week. I was worried, but I didnt want to show because i was merely your TA.  
  
You came back a week later, eyes heavy with dark circles. Your hair wasnt styled nor did it look neat. You had your hands buried inside the pocket of your jeans, hidden from everyone. I called out your name but you didn't call out mine, only a resounding hum was the answer, and my heart sank.  
  
You looked like you weren't paying attention. Your eyes downcast and blank, expressionless and pale. When classes ended, it took you 5 seconds to get out from your reverie until you start packing up and start leaving. But I called out for you. "Changkyun, may i talk to you for a bit?"  
  
My calling stopped you from walking, and our eyes meet. You nodded quietly, ignoring the whispers of your other classmates and walked towards me.  
  
Upclose, you looked beautiful despite of the darkness in your eyes and the pale complexion of your skin.  
  
"Changkyun, you missed 3 lectures, so I want you to read a book for me and pass a paper about it by next meeting. Will that be okay?"  
  
I watched your expression change from dark into hesitant, your eyebrows furrow slighty. "It's okay, Sir Yoo."  
  
And I dismissed you. I glanced at our hands and you had bruises and wounds on your knuckles, fresh and red, and i didnt know my heart could sink deeper than this.

I made you read a book about how a child grew up with ghosts and ghouls and when i saw you again, you had a smile on your face. You approuched me with your paper and book in hand. You held out the book first, and when i glanced at your fingers, it had bandages, but it looked like it was cared for. You looked more tan, and your hair was styled and neat. You came up to me with entheusiasm.

And i just listened to you spill out praises, and all i could think about was how your hands would fidle on the cover of the book, tracing the protruding title with the tip of your fingers, and how deep your voice vibrates through the air when you said how beautiful the boy from the novel grew up to be hopeful.

You smiled and I smiled back at you, and you brightened up, glowing under the flourascent lights.

And when classes ended, I thought it was enough, but you came back the next day with dark, swollen eyes. You looked like the storm after an ocean was filled with sunrise and sunsets, you were chaotic but quiet, and my heart soars through the wind of thunder and lightning.

So I called you again after class. 

"It turns out that one paper can't cut it," I said as an excuse. "So I need you to read another one and make a paper about it." I reached for the book so that I could hand it to you, and when you reached out for it, the sleeves of your sweater traced up your wrists, revealing the expanses of your pale skin, and I too went pale.

Scars and wounds, either fresh or scabbing, but many. I could feel my chest tighten at the sight and I couldnt help but look and worry. And I know you saw me look at your wounds because you quickly withdrawed, leaving the lecture hall by the next second.

And that new cycle continues; the more your eyes drop and your scars add up, the more the books I give. I do see improvements, but you always look so empty that it hurts to give a lecture.

And by the 5th week, you noticed.

"Sir Yoo. Why give me so much readings?" You said after a grueling lecture that lasted for 2 hours.

I looked at you with the softest eyes I could muster and I saw your shoulders visibly relax. "Because I know you need it." I said, noncholantly fixing the papers on the desk.

"What do you mean I need it? Im sure the papers i have given is satisfying enough to fill up my absences."

"Its not about your absences, Changkyun, it's about the scars you bear on your wrists."

And silence grew, like a hallow tree. It was so loud that all i could hear is our breathing, resounding through the walls. You were hesitant, your mouth opening and closing with questions at the tip of your tongue. And I could't help but trace my eyes on the bridge of your nose and notice how your lashes flutter on your cheek.

I reached for your fingers, gently pulling them up so I could look at them in comfort. "You're so beautiful, Changkyun."

And you were hesitant, but you whispered a small thank you to me. I smiled at you and you smiled back and I noticed how the grip of your hands reach out for my palms. "Thank you." You said.

"I want to help you; help you get better, help you bring peace to your life. Will you let me?"

And you let me in the palms of your hands, tracing the caverns of your skin.

We started to go out together after lectures, and we would go to book stores and tease each other about the books we have read while our hands try to intertwine without actualy twining it together, a thread keeping us together.

And you stopped calling me "Sir Yoo" and just called my Kihyun. You stopped hesitating and you just simple reach out for my hands, holding it tightly to your chest.

And eventually, you're reading this.

What a cliche move to have inserted this letter into the book I'm gifting to you, but anything is worth doing as long as its for you.

You're reading this because I notice you. And I wrote this just to ask you one thing:

Will you let me in in the palm of your hands and insert me into your stories? Will you let me love every word your write on your skin and let me read every line of poetry you carve?

Will you let me love you and call you mine?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok lemme get this out there ok, yes kihyun is a prof (more like a teacher's assistant) and ik he isnt that much older than kyunie but i would imagine hyun to be that kind of person that gets accelarated alot when he was in high school and was a scholar and has latin honours ok hahaha thats why he is a TA at an early age o kkkk
> 
> UPDATE: IM WRITING A NEW MX FIC AND IT'S MULTI-CHAPTERED SO PLSPLS ANTICIPATE. I MIGHT MAKE THIS MY BABY. IM GONNA WORK HARD ON WRITING THIS !!!!
> 
> Shout at me at @_jeonghooniesan 
> 
> UPDATE!!! I CHANGED MY TWT @ TO @coffeechaelly !!! SHOUT AT ME THERE HEHE


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